Life's A Drag
by Vanessa Sgroi
Summary: A talent show for charity spells trouble for the crew.


_Disclaimer: The characters all belong to Universal Studios and Mark VII. _

Life's A Drag

By: Vanessa Sgroi 

The auditorium of Westfield Preparatory School was packed with people, all there to see the annual talent show to benefit the Children's Happiness House. In the rooms behind the stage, the various acts prepared for their appearances.

"Chet, I can't believe I let you talk me into this. Heck! I can't believe you talked any of us into this!"

"Oh, c'mon, Gage. It's for charity. And, I love kids as much as the next guy. Besides, think of the prizes we'll get if we win first place."

"Cap, how'd you let him talk YOU into this?"

"He hooked me with the new TV for the station."

"Me, too." Marco and Mike both chimed in simultaneously.

"Yeah, and don't forget we all would get free movie tickets and $25 gift certificates for that new French restaurant, Monique's, too." Chet looked earnestly at his shift mates.

Roy, who had been silent until then, muttered, "That's what got me. I figured I could take Joanne there for her birthday."

Still clearly disgruntled, Johnny grumbled, "Well, great then. Let's just get this over with. How does this dress look on me?" The dark-haired man gestured to the purple flowered dress he'd just donned.

His partner rolled his eyes. "It looks about as good on you as ours do on us. Now where's my wig?"

Mike handed Roy a wig of cascading curly red hair. Stoker's own long blonde wig slipped down over his eyes, and he impatiently shoved it back into place.

Johnny couldn't hold back a snicker as DeSoto, attired in green plaid, stood in front of the mirror and attempted to place his own headpiece.

"I wouldn't laugh if I were you. Here's yours." Stoker tossed another wig in Johnny's direction. Instead of red and curly, this one was dark brown and braided into two thick braids, reminiscent of Pippi Longstocking.

"Oh, man! Can I trade with somebody?" The lanky junior paramedic looked hopefully at the rest of the crew. They, in turn, shook their head no.

"Huh, well, that's friendship for ya! At least I'm not stuck with the gray granny wig like Chet."

Marco eyed his new hairdo. "I kind of like mine. They say blondes have more fun." As he spoke, he ran his fingers through the strawberry-blonde spikes in appreciation.

Gage turned to his reflection and plopped the wig on his head. As he concentrated on fixing it appropriately, he caught a glimpse of Captain Stanley out of the corner of his eye.

"Um, gee, Cap. You're showing quite a bit of leg there, aren't you?"

Hank swiveled his head toward the hapless young man and gave him his best "latrine duty" glare as he yanked ineffectually at the bottom of the yellow mini-skirt he wore. His wig, a lovely auburn pageboy, tilted precariously to one side.

"Watch it, Gage. And, what the hell are you doing looking at my legs anyway?"

Johnny's mouth opened but no sound emerged. Luckily, Chet interrupted before the paramedic could invite more of his Captain's wrath.

"Hey, guys, we need to hurry and do our makeup." His words were met with shocked stares.

"MAKEUP? Nobody said anything about makeup!" The youngest crew member's voice rose to a squeak at the end.

"Well, of course. If we're gonna dress like chicks we need makeup." Chet advanced on Johnny with a silver tube in his outstretched hand. "Here, pucker up, Gage."

"Give me that!" the dark-haired man yelled as he snatched the tube out of Kelly's hand and pulled off the lid. The lipstick within was such a bright red it seemed to glow.

"Man, Chet, where'd you get this? I don't think I've ever seen a girl where this color before. It's almost blinding."

"It was on the clearance rack at the drugstore. Hurry up. We'll be on soon."

Johnny clumsily applied the lipstick to his lips and passed it over to his partner. Roy sighed but quickly decorated his own lips before passing it to Mike.

"Thank God I begged Joanne to leave the Polaroid at home."

A horrified gasp from Hank Stanley echoed throughout the room.

"Oh, no. Oh, no. I didn't think to tell Elly _not_ to bring a camera. She wouldn't do that to us, would she?"

"I don't know about that, Cap. Joanne sure was quick to grab our camera during our party at Christmas. She still looks at that picture of us in our underwear and giggles. I really had to beg her not to bring it tonight."

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and a disembodied voice called out, "You're on in 10 minutes."

The announcement brought about a flurry of activity as additional cosmetics were quickly, though reluctantly, applied and Chet handed out pairs of oversized women's pumps to the men.

Hank was the first to stuff his feet into the high-heeled shoes. He took a couple of steps, nearly falling flat on his face.

"Oh, for Pete's sake, how do women walk in these infernal things? I have a whole new respect for my wife."

The rest of the men donned their shoes and were immediately able to agree with their leader as they tottered around the room.

All too soon, the final knock sounded on the door summoning the men to the spotlight. The six firefighters made their way unsteadily up on stage and began their act. Actually, the comedy routine, Chet Kelly had worked out was quite funny and well received by the audience, but for the A-shift of Station 51, it seemed like the longest 8 minutes of their lives.

When it was over, they rushed to get off the stage. Forgetting the unwieldy heels on his feet, Johnny started down the stairs only to twist his ankle on the second riser. Losing his precarious balance, he went flying and slammed into Mike, sending them both down the rest of the stairs.

"Johnny! Mike!" Roy reached his fallen friends first and was soon joined by Hank, Chet, and Marco.

"Are you two okay?"

Stoker groaned and sat up. Blood cascaded from his nose, staining the front of his pink-and-white polka dot dress. The blonde wig now lay in his lap.

Gage didn't move.

Roy bent over his partner.

"Johnny?"

The young paramedic let out a low moan and opened his eyes.

"Roy?"

"Do you hurt anywhere?"

"Yeah, my ankle hurts a lot."

"You have a pretty good cut on your forehead, too."

Johnny hissed as DeSoto palpated his rapidly swelling ankle.

"Well, Junior, I think it's broken. Cap, can you have someone call for a squad and an ambulance?"

Captain Stanley nodded and disappeared to summon help.

"No! Roy, I don't need to go to Rampart. It's . . . it's just sprained. Take me home, and I'll ice it."

DeSoto rolled his eyes before responding.

"You have to go. I don't think it's just a sprain and you need stitches. You might even have a concussion. Besides, you took Mike out when you fell. His nose is probably broken so he's going, too."

"Squad and ambulance are on the way," Hank announced.

Gage looked over at his friend. "Oh, man. Hey, Mike, I'm sorry."

Stoker just glared at him.

Twenty-five minutes later, two thoroughly embarrassed, unhappy, and strangely attired, firemen were on their way to Rampart.

Much later that evening, Johnny sleepily lay in a hospital bed doing his best to forget the profound embarrassment at being brought to the emergency room dressed in drag. Mike had been treated and released, so his embarrassment, at least, had been short-lived.

The door to his room opened admitting his partner. Roy was now makeup and wig-free and was dressed in a pair of scrubs. Though Dixie had laughed merrily at his expense, she had kindly offered him a change of clothing.

"You up for some company?"

"Sure. C'mon in." Johnny yawned.

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay. Can't believe I'm actually glad to be in a hospital gown."

DeSoto gestured to his current attire. "Feels good to be out of those dresses, that's for sure."

Suddenly, Gage chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"While I was down in emergency, some drunk whistled at me and asked me for a date. Guess I'm good looking as a woman, too." The infamous grin was firmly in place.

"In your dreams, Junior. In your dreams."

There was a tap on the door, and Captain Stanley stuck his head into the room.

"Can we come in?"

"Sure, Cap."

Captain Stanley and the rest of the crew filed into Johnny's room.

Once they were all in the room and get well wishes were exchanged, Hank cleared his throat. "Guys, I . . . I have some bad news."

Not liking the tone of the Captain's voice, Roy quietly asked, "What's wrong, Cap?"

"Umm, nothing. Nothing's wrong. Not really. But, well, Elly brought the Polaroid camera tonight, and she took pictures. Lots of pictures."

There was a chorus of heartfelt groans.

Heaving a resigned sigh, Johnny laid his head back against the pillow.

"Well, they already have pictures of us in nothing but our underwear. I guess pictures of us in drag aren't so bad." After thinking about it for a few seconds, five heads nodded in agreement.

The phone beside Gage's bed rang.

"Want me to get it?"

Johnny nodded at his partner.

"John Gage's room."

Roy listened quietly for a minute.

"Really? Hey, that's great! I'll let them all know."

DeSoto hung up the receiver and turned to face the other occupants of the room with a bright smile on his face.

"That was the Director of the Children's Happiness House. Believe it or not, we won first place!"

The End


End file.
